If It Doesn't Hurt, You're Doing Something Wrong
by Blonde CiCi
Summary: Hermione loses her temper once again at work, and is forced to take dance classes to relieve her stress and to her chagrin, her long time boyfriend Ron agrees. Unfortunately, she’s in deeper than she realizes when she finds out who her teacher is...DrH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is JK's. 

Summary: When Hermione loses her temper once again at work, the Ministry, mandates that she take some classes to relieve her stress and chagrin, her long time boyfriend Ron agrees. Unfortunately, she's in deeper than she realizes when she finds out who her teacher is...

A/N: Hi! This is a semi-silly, semi-romantic story. It disregards book 7 because...well because writing after that is just boring. So anyways, please drop me a review they make my day, and tell me what you think.

**If It Doesn't Hurt, You're Doing Something Wrong**

**Chapter 1- Anger Management**

"URRGGGGHHHH!!!!" came a piercing shriek from the front door and it slammed with a bang.

Ron barely looked up from his paper, used to such outbursts by now.

"Hi hunny, how was your day?"

He was answered with another scream of frustration. He casually flipped the page, reading about how a Quidditch player from the Harpies had just been put into the Quidditch hall of fame.

A red faced Hermione Granger stormed in and threw her briefcase onto the table where Ron sat, knocking over his cup of tea and scattering the other discarded pieces of newspaper around the kitchen.

With a casual flick of his wand Ron repaired the cup and looked up calmly at his enraged girlfriend.

"What is wrong dear?"

"Don't you use that tone with me!" she snapped and pulled out a chair to sit down huffily, once again knocking over the cup.

Ron decided to leave it where it was for the time being.

"This time they have gone too far! A couple of minor incidents and they've decided I'm a raving lunatic!" she raved.

"Who did you attack this time?" Ron sighed.

"I did not attack that last man Ronald! It is not my fault that he happened to walk past my office as I was throwing things."

"Well you did attack the man that was in your office at the time, and that you happened to be throwing things at."

She shot him a death glare that years ago would have sent him cowering, but he was now impervious to. He was used to it, and had learned some marvellous shield charms.

"I can't help it if I'm passionate about my work! You know how terribly some people treat other creatures and you would have done worse to him if you had heard what he was doing to his elves!"

She slumped in her seat and all of her anger seemed to rush out of her for a moment in tired defeat.

"Really, it's not fair what they're making me do. I stick ONE quill in somebody's ear and suddenly-"

"WHAT?!" Ron hollered, suddenly alarmed.

"O shush he's fine, which is more then he deserves. He had been dragged into my office three previous times and apparently hadn't listened to me. I figured he needed his ears cleaned out."

Ron discretely checked the room for more breakables or sharp objects as he steeled himself to tell her what he thought.

"Frankly, whatever they are making you do can't nearly be as bad as being stabbed in the ear with a quill. You could have killed him! I have put up with your anger and tantrums since we started school, but it seems to have increased ten fold ever since we graduated. Look, I love you, but something is obviously bothering you and since you haven't talked to me, it just seems to explode out of you."

After the war, in their seventh year Hermione had gone off on her own, who knows where to compose herself. Ron and Hermione were out of touch for a year. It was understandable of course, many people had died in the war, including Harry and Voldemort. Once she had come back from her escapades they had tried to start all over again. They started dating shortly after and had been for the last two years. She had come back a little hardened, and a little...different...then she had been before, nothing that he could put a finger on, but different nonetheless. He chocked it down to being from the war; after all, they had all changed.

Hermione stiffened, "So you agree with them then. If you thought I was such an irate maniac then you should have said so before asking me to move in with me! Now you're screwed, I KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP!" She stormed out of the room and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

With a sigh of acceptance Ron cleaned up the kitchen which Hurricane Hermione had disrupted and grabbed some blankets and a pillow from the cabinet to set up on the couch. He was glad that he had picked out such a comfortable couch because he seemed to spend more time on it then in their bed.

_Flashback to the Incident at the Ministry_

Hermione sat grumpily in a chair outside of the council room. Fuming at how long it was taking she thought back to the incident in her office. That prick McNair had been hauled into it repeatedly for cruelty against animals, unfair treatment to his house elves, and inappropriate behaviour with a thestral. The last one was just plain creepy.

Hermione had returned to Wizarding England and job opportunities had come pouring in. Not only was she hailed as the brightest witch to ever grace Hogwarts, she had also had a pivotal role in the defeat of the wizard formerly known as Lord Voldemort. She was wanted everywhere. However, when the Ministry had offered her a position as Head of a new Department that would protect and cover all animals, elves, and other magical creatures, she jumped at the chance. She knew that the elves thing was just a way of enticing her...but it worked.

The only problem was her blasted temper. Her year away had affected her badly and it left her bitter. No one knew what happened and there was no way she was talking about it. Ron and Ginny were the only ones who could genuinely make her happy, although she often freaked out on them too. Ginny, however, gave as good as she got and after being trounced by a well placed Bat Bogey hex one day the two had called a truce.

McNair was a different story. He was scum and the punishments she doled out obviously weren't good enough. Suspending his Apparition license, making him pay exuberant fees, and even getting him kicked out of the country club wasn't good enough. He deserved Azkaban, but unfortunately she wasn't able to put him there by law. So when he gave her an uninterested yet defiant look in her office, she did the next best thing: physical attack. She smiled slightly to herself at the image of him beaten with a quill in his ear. Bloody idiot hadn't even known what hit him.

She looked at her watch. The council had been debating for over an hour. Or so she thought. Little did she know the poor council members had spent 20 minutes deciding and the other 40 trying to decide which poor soul would have to tell her. After trying thumb wars, and rock paper scissors, and squabbling over the rules and unfair thumb moves they were currently drawing straws.

The unfortunate loser, Mr. Nurmi, who had bright yellow hair, gelled ridiculously to his head in mass curls burst into tears. The others patted him on the back sympathetically and pushed him unceremoniously out the front door, then booked it out the back.  
Flustered and off balance, he tried to retain his dignity as he looked down at the peeved witch.

"Hello, Misses Granger, if you could just please step in here for a moment...if you don't mind...uh please...?" He lost his nerve halfway through under her withering glare. He stepped into the room quickly and sat down in a chair, hoping she wouldn't notice how hard he was shaking.

She stomped in and flopped down in the chair across from him.

"Umm...it has come to our attention...that you may be suffering under a copious amount of stress. We value your work here, however, after today's incident we are worried aboutyou..." he paused trying to catch his breath and steady his heart "not to say that we are worried about you in a sort of mental way...wait I don't mean you're mental...o bother. I just mean, McNair is threatening to sue us now that the quill has been removed and we must show that we are doing something. We have decided to enrol you in a class that we hope will help with stress. We do this sometimes for people when we see that they have trouble...coping. We find that physical exertion often helps."

Hermione was pissed to say the least, but compared to other punishments this wasn't terrible, "Like kickboxing or something?" she asked.

The weird little man gulped. Normally, that was what they would suggest, but the council had decided that teaching her how to attack people more proficiently was not a smart thing to decide.

"Well...sort of. We have decided to enrol you in a dance class at a most prestigious school. The Principle has been very agreeable and has decided to teach you himself, and honour not bestowed on many people. He will teach you the major dances such as the fox trot, waltz, salsa, and others, one of which you will perform at the end of the year with him at the regular recital. After that you will be considered to have graduated and the sentence will be over. We will owl you with the details shortly."

The man had been saying all of this to his shoes and looked up quickly to gage her reaction. She looked absolutely formidable. Her hair seemed to be emitting sparks and he was sure he would have been dead a million times over if looks could kill. She restrained herself however, from blowing up at him.

Her voice was deathly cold, "Fine. But, I sincerely hope you never get dragged into my office...sir."

She left the room and he collapsed, thanking his lucky stars, and deciding to book a vacation to anywhere...the other councillors would understand.

A/N: Soooo what did you think? Next chapter you will get introduced to her o so delectable teacher (cough Draco cough). Hermione doesn't really see it my way of course. Also, more background on the war. Hermione is a bit OC but not really, she's always been hot headed. Please review! I'll love you!

Much Love

CiCi


	2. Blonde Haired Vermin

Disclaimer: I live in my own little world, don't sue me for borrowing JK's characters, they're just here in my mind.

A/N: Ok folks…that was dismal. Over 300 readers and only 3 reviewed? That hurts…After this chapter if I don't get at least 5 reviews (which is a sad number anyways) I'm just going to scrap it. Thanks so much to my reviewers though! I love ya!

Chapter 2 – Blonde Haired Vermin

Her morning coffee had been ruined by the big ominous owl that swept through her kitchen window. It was the details of her sentence. She let her head drop to the table with a loud thump. Ron stirred on the couch, muttering something about Creevy and his bloody annoying camera.

Sighing resignedly she broke the seal on the letter and read it carefully.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are very pleased to that you are attending our school this season. Please floo to the BDSM (Britain Dance School for Magicians) for your first lesson tomorrow at 9 am. Please wear suitable clothing, something comfortable, and bring a change of clothes._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Principle of BDSM_

_M_

Unable to vent her anger on anything she decided to walk at least partially to work, to lose some of her anger. She couldn't help one last moment of cruelty though before she left. She walked up to Ron asleep on the couch still and bent down close to his ear.

"YOU'RE LATE FOR POTIONS! SNAPE IS GOING TO KILL YOU!" she shrieked then quickly walked out the door.

Ron jumped up startled and fell on the floor screaming almost incoherently about not wanting to clean out any more bedpans. He looked around at the now empty apartment and muttered, 'I hate when she does that. Why always Snape…I could deal with Flitwick or Sprout…'

As she closed the door she heard the muttering and left with a small smile dancing around her lips. It faded quickly when she was met with a beautiful sunny day. It didn't match her gloomy and bitter feelings so it was obviously out to get her. Or she was just paranoid.

Everywhere she walked she was bombarded with sickening sweetness: a little child playing with his dog, two lovers strolling hand in hand, flowers blooming in abundance. It was almost enough to make anyone forget the terrors of the world. To forget that you couldn't count on anyone, and that hurt was always just around the corner. Forgetting about that would someone forget to keep up their walls…and that was just dangerous.

She decided to Apparate the rest of the way to the Ministry and she walked into an alleyway to disappear.

When she arrived at her department everything appeared normal. No one mentioned yesterday's incident and they all seemed friendly enough. However, when she went into her office she noticed a few discreet differences. All of the furniture seemed to be stuck in place, all of the sharp objects seemed to be filed down. No matter how hard she tried to sharpen them, with and without magic, her pencils stayed blunt. Her quills seemed to have disappeared to be replaced with washable markers.

Markers for goodness sakes! How was she ever going to write a mature letter to someone and be taken seriously. On closer inspection, they were scented as well.

'Great,' she thought, 'I'm sure the Minister will love his reports written in purple marker that smells like grapes.'

The last straw occurred when she went to staple some papers together and found a pack of gum where her stapler used to be.

She decided to go home early. Her colleagues were grateful.

Dinner that night was a tense affair.

She was still barely talking to Ron who was now rambling about Quidditch, trying to relieve some of the palpable tension. It wasn't working. Quidditch just annoyed her more.

She went to bed early that night. He slept on the couch again.

Her alarm woke her at 8 and she stumbled out of bed into the shower. She dried her hair with a charm and threw it up into a messy ponytail. She chose a pair of sweats, a tank top and runners. She went into the kitchen and scarfed down a quick breakfast before flooing to the school.

She opened her eyes with trepidation and looked around. Her first impression was movement. People were bustling everywhere, running here and there. Teenagers were chatting and lugging huge bags around, obviously destined for classes. They had the best posture she'd ever seen on teenagers. They all moved with a lithe grace that seemed to come naturally. Self-consciously, she straightened her back. Years of toting around heavy bags full of books had given her terrible posture.

The school had high ceilings and was incredibly warm. Different hallways seemed to be painted different colours and she started to notice that the students were also. A gaggle of girls that looked to be about 13 rushed past her, wearing light blue ensembles and dashed down the matching corridor.

Unsure of where to go she looked down at herself quickly, wondering if perhaps her clothes had changed to tell her where to go. She looked down quickly and saw her regular clothes. Embarrassed, she looked up again to see a young, and handsome man, staring at her with a bemused expression.

"You must be Ms. Granger," he said kindly, with a faint Italian accent.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, hoping that her cheeks weren't blazing red from mortification.

"You are down the dark green hallway, second door on the right. The principle will be there shortly."

She gazed down the hallway. Green. Of course it was green.

She walked to the door he had directed her to and pushed it open. It was even warmer in there and the ceilings seemed to stretch into oblivion. The room was huge, with smooth polished wood floors. One wall was completely covered in floor to, presumably, the ceiling. It had a long wooden bar running along it at chest height. There was a shallow box in one corner with a weird yellow crystallized substance at the bottom. Other than that, it was empty.

"Good morning Granger," came a distinctly familiar drawl that gave her chills.

She spun around quickly to see none other than Draco Malfoy staring straight back at her with a small smile.

"You?!? Wh-what?! YOU!?" she spluttered.

"Yes, it is me. How grateful I am to you for stating the obvious."

"I can NOT be taught by you, you spineless, disgusting, egotistical, prat!"

"Although those were much more creative than 'you', while in class I would prefer it if you would call me Draco, although Mr.Malfoy will do fine as well."

She just glared at him with contempt. "I want another teacher. Any other teacher. I would rather be taught by a legless and blind centaur than you. Who owns this place? I wish to speak with them."

"Why I do. I started it, I own it, I run it. And since all of our legless blind centaurs are currently occupied by other things, I will be the one teaching you."

She was shocked by his dry sense of humour, but not nearly shocked enough to dispel her desire to claw his face with her nails and rip out his perfect hair. He had made her life miserable all through school, and although he had switched sides during the war and was invaluable in the defeat she had always assumed he was holed away in some distant country doing dastardly deeds and making copious amounts of money. A little cliché perhaps, but she liked it that way.

The only thing stopping her from storming out was her job. One more discretion and she was sure they would fire her. There were other jobs of course, but she did some real good there, and felt like she was making a difference. It was the perfect job for her, despite some of the unsavoury people she had to deal with. She bit down on her tongue so hard she could taste blood.

"Now, since we have that out of the way, I think we should start you off with running. Generally, we don't get our dancers to do laps, since running builds muscles in different areas that dance does. However, you have some catching up to do, and you will need to work on your stamina. We'll start with five laps of the school."

She just stared at him dumbly. Had he just insulted her? "I'm in great shape, thank you very much!" she spat.

He just shrugged. She stared at herself in the mirrors. She had always been secretively proud of her body. She never really did exercise but she ate well and had grown into a beautiful woman. Her hair was more tamed and she had developed some wonderful curves.

With surprising grace he lifted a foot onto the bar and pointed his other foot to the side. Bending over his leg and putting his face to his knee he stretched repeatedly.

Hermione just glared harder. 'No self respecting man should be able to bend like that,' she thought bitterly, although admittedly, his ass did look fabulous in those tight black pants. Actually, all of him looked completely delectable. He was wearing a tight black wife beater, those tight black pants, and black socks. His arms were sculpted nicely and she could tell his entire body was as well. His shoulders had broadened out a bit over the years and he had stopped slicking back his hair.

She shook her head slowly, and could practically feel her brain turning into mush. Those thoughts were completely unacceptable and unwanted. He was vermin. Blonde haired vermin.

"You might want to stretch," he suggested. He now sat on the floor with both legs spread, nose to the floor.

"Most definitely shouldn't be able to do that," she muttered.

If he heard he didn't say anything.

"I don't need to!" she snapped, more loudly this time.

Once again he just shrugged.

Feeling stupid just standing there, she did a couple of goalie stretches then waited, very impatiently, for him to be done.

He pulled his wand out of who knows where and a pair of sneakers appeared. Throwing them on he walked over to a door that Hermione hadn't noticed upon first inspection.

It was moderately cool out and was once again a clear day.

"I don't expect you to be able to keep up today, it will take time. Just do your best. If you can't do five laps that's fine as well."

She imagined kicking his head in with steel toed boots, and resolved to do the five laps if it killed her, and hopefully beat him.

She soon realized that her goals were beyond idiotic. She had started off strong but before she'd even got to the halfway point around the school she was severely winded. It was a large school, but she was also quite out of shape. He passed her with ease.

By the fourth lap she felt like she was about to die. He had passed her three times by this point. 'FUCK now it's four!' she thought as he ran past her. He didn't even have the decency to look tired. By this point she was dripping in sweat.

As she completed her last lap she hobbled over to the bushes and puked up her breakfast. Using Scourgify on her mouth she made her way inside, aching all over.

He looked up from his spot on the floor. You should have stretched.

"If I had any strength left, I would beat the shit out of you" she gasped and threw herself down on the floor.

He let out a short laugh and she stared at him in shock. She wanted to scream at him but she didn't have the energy.

As she caught her breathe, the questions that had been bubbling inside of her burst out, "So what the fuck are you doing here anyways?"

"Teaching."

"And I state the obvious?! I mean, since when do you dance? Why aren't you off gloating over your tons of galleons and terrorizing innocent people?! Is this dance school actually a front for a Death Eater hide out?"

He stared straight at her. She glared back at him with a fierceness that left most trembling in her wake. After a long pause she looked away feeling as though she had gotten into a starling contest with a statue.

"You know I wasn't on that side, I fought with you. I enjoy dancing. My mother made me take all types of ballroom, as do all of the other pureblooded families. After the war, I was at a loss of what to do. I decided to live my life doing something I enjoy."

"Bullshit!" she scoffed loudly, "I bet your students are all 'pureblooded' scum too."

For the first time that day she saw anger flare up in his gray eyes. They had a depth to them that overwhelmed her.

"So far I have been lenient, but do not insult my students."

Hermione was reminded strongly of a certain Headmaster at that statement.

"Now, I see you didn't bring a change of clothes so you may want to try a few scourgify charms before we get in to some basic stretches. We won't get to any dance moves today seeing as how you're outfitted improperly. I will owl you a list of the things you will need for next class and where you can find them."

Once again, she wasn't sure if she should be insulted but she did cast a few charms to make herself more presentable.

"Alright, if you could please make your way over to the bar we can begin with some simplistic ballet stretches and moves that will make you more limber. Take off your shoes for now and start in first position, as far turned out as you can."

She stared dumbly at him, holding onto the bar with one hand. She felt extremely ignorant and hated it, especially since it was Malfoy.

He gave a slightly frustrated huff and ran his fingers through his hair, "I didn't realize how far back we'd have to start. I thought all little girls took ballet and wanted to get a pink tutu."

This time she really was insulted, "Look here Malfoy, unlike yourself, I never desired to prance around in tights with a huge poofy pink skirt! I was enrolled in all sorts of gifted programs and my mother didn't feel that such activity was pertinent."

She turned her nose up at him slightly and he couldn't help but grin. He knew she was annoyed at knowing less then him at something and it was quite hilarious.

He walked over to her and turned her to face the bar.

"Place just your fingertips lightly on the bar. It will support you, but you don't need to grip it like your best friend is falling off a cliff. Now put your heels together, and turn your feet as far as you can to face opposite walls."

She did as she was told, but sent him a scathing look in the mirror. He ignored it, if they were going to get anything done, he was going to have to be the mature one.

"Now plies. It's French for bend or to incline, therefore you bend your knees, trying to put them over the tips of your toes."

She tried to do as he said but she felt like she was going to fall over.

"No no no. You must turn out from the hips, to make your angles line up."

He snaked his hands around to her hips to turn out her legs. Shivers raced from where his hands touched and snaked up her back and to her toes. She couldn't believe the reaction she was getting, she tried to convince herself that it was chills of disgust from him putting his hands on her. 'Yeh and I hate reading!' a little sarcastic voice in the back of her head shouted. She tried desperately to focus on the words he was saying.

She soon realized how demanding of a teacher he was. He put her through different stretches, each more strenuous then the last, trying to gauge how advanced she was. He had conjured different beats and was yelling out all kinds of numbers to her and poking her here and there to remind her to keep her back straight, or her butt tucked in or some other thing that she would forget while trying to remember everything else. She felt completely at a loss and it was a terrible feeling for her. She had never felt so inept in her life.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only 45 minutes he finally told her to break.

"You've done well. I can tell we have quite a bit of work ahead of us but at least you have decided to listen and not be insufferable as always. We'll start with a simplistic salsa routine next week if you practice these stretches. I have another class now, but I'll see you next week, same time." He gave her an elegant bow and walked out of the room.

She felt dismissed and she didn't like it one bit, but she was happy to be able to get home.

Once there she collapsed on her bed, her muscles shaking from fatigue and overexertion. Ron walked in to check on her and found his girlfriend a complete wreck.

"Hermione?" he asked with trepidation.

From her spot on the bed she just moaned, "Malfoy. Dance. Must buy books. Damn ferret…" and promptly began to snore.

He covered her up with a blanket and walked out shaking his head, life was going to get much more interesting.

A/N: I know this is a terrible way to end it, and the chapter was just mediocre but it's a transition chapter basically. PLEASE REVIEW I LOVE YOU!!

Much Love

CiCi


	3. Trust Me

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine! The rest is J.K's!

A/N: Yayy! People reviewed! Anyways, I'm going to venture into the realm of salsa now. I know tons and tons about ballet, but very little about latin dances so I've been doing some research. If anyone notices any discrepancies or would like to help me out I'd be grateful. Thanks so much again!

**Chapter 3 – Trust Me**

Hermione was armed to the hilt with research materials. She was determined to be fully prepared this time around, and could not bear the thought of feeling stupid next to Malfoy.

She had gotten as many books on salsa dances as she could and had even purchased a couple of videos.

Ron had walked in on her attempting to move her feet like in one of the instructional videos. When she spotted him trying not to laugh from the doorway she fell on her butt in surprise. His laughter burst out and he looked like he was going to piss himself.

She looked almost as embarrassed as if he had walked in on her watching a porno, and her face was as red as a tomato.

"OUT!!! OUT! GET OUT!" she shrieked.

The image of her twisting in what looked like a standing epileptic seizure would stay in his mind forever, it was even worth the constant shrieking. He planned to regale the story to Harry at the soonest opportunity.

When his laughing finally subsided and he disappeared into another room in their flat she sunk down onto the couch in despair. She had read all of the books, and could recite the theories backwards and forwards, but her brain and her feet just didn't want to work together. Not to mention the damn shoes!

Draco had owled her a list of the things she needed, as promised, and much to her fury a pair of high heels was on the list. She had gone to the dance store he had recommended and tried on about a dozen pairs. They all hurt but she could tell the saleswoman was getting frustrated with her so she randomly picked out a pair. Hermione wasn't used to wearing heels. The closest thing to dress shoes she had were her mary janes and they weren't particularly high.

With those, she had also purchased some comfortable short flowing skirts, some tights, a couple of body suits and some weird rubbery things that seemed to go around her toes but she wasn't quite sure what to do with yet. Her books hadn't been helpful and searching 'weird rubbery toe thingies' in the card catalogue section didn't seem like it would be helpful.

She had even been getting up early to go for a jog before her shower and getting ready for work. When Hermione Granger is determined to do something, people get out of the way and run for cover.

Morning of class dawned bright and sunny once again, 'Is this London or California,' she thought grumpily. Today however, she felt prepared. She showered quickly, threw on a body suit and put some joggers on top. Grabbing her bag, she waved a quick goodbye to Ron and flooed over to the school.

This time she walked with purpose towards her room, barely glancing at the other students bustling around.

"Ah Granger, right on time as always," proclaimed a smooth voice from inside the room and she opened the door a crack.

There he was, in those infuriatingly amazing pants, looking practically godlike. Her stomach tightened and she tried vainly to shoot him one of her infamous glares.

"I see you have procured the items I mentioned," he continued, motioning towards her duffel bag.

"Let's start off with some jogging shall we?" he shot her an evil smirk and she gulped nervously.

This time around she fared a little better but was still exhausted and bustled into an adjoining change room to throw on a skirt and her shoes.

As soon as she exited the room she skidded on the smooth buffed floor and landed firmly on her derriere. She groaned mortified 'Second time in as many days!' She would soon be getting a very sore rump if she continued this way.

She looked up and again a man was laughing at her. He was trying very hard to hold in his giggles but ended up letting out a very undignified unMalfoyish (if that was even a word) snort. She stared at him a second and then burst into a fit of giggles to rival tickle-me-elmo. He couldn't hold it in any longer and soon they were both in fits of hysterics.

Finally wiping a tear out of his eyes he extended his hand to pick her up. She took his assistance and stood up slowly.

"There's a box of resin over there. Ballet dancers use it on their pointe shoes to help them to keep from sliding all over the place. Normally, you'd want smooth shoes to help you achieve the gliding look, but seeing as your shoes are new and it would be hard to teach you anything if you're constantly on your ass, you should go step in it for now."

Muttering something that sounded strangely like, 'You go step in it, and shove it up your ass while you're at it," she stalked over to the box he had mentioned and ground her shoes into the yellow stuff. Despite their odd outburst of laughter she still wasn't quite ready to accept him; he was the ferret after all.

He motioned for her to join him in the middle of the room.

"We'll start off with some easy steps first. We start on one and count in fours. Four is usually a pause to create tension. The salsa usually stays in a small area and you don't cover much of the floor. Here, when I step this way you use your alternate leg to go with me."

He grasped her right hand in his and pulled her close to him, letting his other hand support her lower back. Once again she felt those annoying flutters in her stomach when his hands made contact with her body. He started to teach her some simple movements and flicked his wand (once again pulled from who knows where) and a simple latin song came on.

She found, for once, that she was having a hard time concentrating, and kept mixing up the foot movements.

"Look into my eyes, not at your feet. Don't be so nervous, the salsa is a passionate dance. You're supposed to connect, with fire. On the pause we create tension with our arms and legs. It is a dance of lust, passion, and energy," he practically whispered.

Their eyes connected and she found that she could move much more easily when she wasn't even thinking. The tension was palpable, her feet moved on their own accord.

"We're going to try a dip now, just relax, extend your right leg and fall back. I'll support you, trust me."

He could feel her tense up and he stroked slow circles on her lower back with his thumb.

"1, 2, 3, pause, and 5, 6, 7…"

She closed her eyes and let herself be flung backwards. She was about an inch from the ground when she opened her eyes, amazed that her head hadn't been smashed into the floor. She stared into his steely grey orbs that were staring at her, full of something she couldn't quite pin. Her heart beat a mile a minute.

The eyes staring at her from her position brought back a memory flashback. She remembered a set of eyes much different then those, staring at her with contempt and disgust as she sobbed on the floor, broken in more ways then one.

She let out a shriek and flailed, he lost his grip and she was once again on her ass.

"I have to go! That's enough for today, I have somewhere, I have to do something that is something around that I have to umm….I've got to go!" she wiped away a few tears, grabbed her things and tore out of the room.

Draco stood in the middle of the room where she had left him and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and take deep breaths. He wasn't sure what had happened at the end, but the part in the middle was scaring him, he wasn't happy about how much he liked holding her in his arms.

Hermione collapsed in her flat sobbing, grateful that Ron was still at work. She was with Ron because he was stable and always the same. He was normal, and he loved her, and it was safe. She needed safe. She was with him to forget that the world could blow up in your face at any point. She was with Ron to forget HIM. The monster who had taken her heart and thrown it back in her face. She was a bitch because she was determined never to be hurt like that again. And now, stupid Malfoy was stirring things inside of her that she never wanted to feel again. She couldn't go through it again, she wouldn't make it out alive.

She sat on the couch for a long time just staring at the wall, reminiscing, yet trying to forget that horrible year. She had been doing just fine until he came along. What was with men and causing so many problems?! She resolved to drop this silly crush, if that's what it really was. More like a physical attraction…maybe. Either way, she was going to forget about it, finish her lessons, and never look back. Grabbing a stack of work papers she had neglected she poured herself in them, determined to cram her mind with so much information that everything else would fall away.

If only it were that simple.

A/N: Okay, I'm going to delve deeper into her past in the next little while. I know the Dr/H thing is going a little quick, but when you feel something it's usually pretty instantaneous. Stay with me, the plot will get much more twisted and crazy. We'll have a reappearance of some other characters soon! Please Review!

Much Love

CiCi


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